Page 55 of Married to the Enemy

“For asking me to marry you.”

She laughed softly, her hand stilling on Freddy’s head. The sound was small, but it was the most welcome thing he’d heard in days.

“Did you catch the bad guys?” Freddy’s voice was groggy, his lashes fluttering as his eyes opened. He lifted his head as though he meant to sit up, but his thin body slumped back against Mia, who immediately wrapped her arm around him protectively.

“Yeah,” Raffe said, his voice steady, firm, leaving no room for doubt. “We caught them.”

Mia looked up at him, tenson visible in her jaw. “All of them?”

He nodded once. “Yeah. Your father is in jail. We’ve got enough evidence to bury him.”

She didn’t relax. Instead, her lips pressed together, her skepticism sharp as ever. “A good lawyer…” she began.

Raffe shook his head. Before he could reply, Freddy looked up at Mia, his expression alight with conviction. “Raffe won’t let that happen.” His voice was clear, unwavering, carrying a faith that made Raffe’s chest tighten.

Damn. That kind of faith, from a kid who’d been let down so painfully and so often, hit harder than anything Mia could have said.

“It’s late,” Raffe said, his voice low. He turned to glance at Evangeline. She was still slumped in her chair, eyes closed, a small smile tugging her lips. “I’ll carry her to bed.”

Freddy pushed himself upright, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “Thanks, Raffe,” he muttered, his tone already half-asleep. Then, in a sudden burst of motion, he launched himself forward and wrapped his skinny arms around Raffe’s neck. “I love you!” he whispered fiercely, and before Raffe could even respond, the boy dashed out of the living room on wobbly legs, heading for the stairs, keeping one hand on the wall for balance, but his pace was faster than ever.

The silence left behind was deafening. Raffe, Mia, and Evangeline just sat there, stunned and delighted by Freddy’s unguarded declaration.

Finally, Raffe’s eyes found Mia’s. She smiled softly, shrugging as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “I guess we all love you,” she murmured as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him too.

That wasn’t enough. Not for him.

With a growl low in his chest, Raffe tugged at the back of her messy bun, tilting her head back until her dark eyes widened. He claimed her lips in a kiss that was anything but calm, anything but casual. “I love you too,” he muttered against her mouth when he finally drew back, pressing his forehead to hers.

“’Bout time!” Evangeline grumbled. She pushed herself up from the chair and for a brief, terrifying moment, she wobbled. Both Raffe and Mia lunged for her instinctively.

“I’m getting better,” she insisted while chuckling, though her knees were trembling. “But every once in a while, my muscles forget they’re supposed to work.”

Raffe didn’t bother with words. He simply swept her up into his arms, ignoring her half-hearted protests as she swatted at his shoulder. “I got ya,” he said firmly. Carrying her upstairs was no burden at all. He laid her carefully on her bed, tucked the blankets over her, pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and turned to go.

As he left, he shot Mia a look—one that warned her not to be long.

Downstairs, the house was quiet again. He checked every door and window, ensuring each was locked, lingering for a moment at the boarded-up window Jim Fuller had smashed through. The plywood was solid. Good enough for tonight. Outside, the exterior lights lit the backyard, washing over the tree house where Barry Trello had squatted like a rat. Raffe’s jaw tightened. That bastard had been too close for too long.

The kitchen was spotless—except for the pizza box someone had crammed into the trash. His stomach growled. He opened the fridge, and right there, waiting front and center, was a container with three slices waiting for him.

“Damn, woman,” he muttered under his breath, pulling it out. He scarfed down a slice, then another, chasing it with the cold beer someone had left sitting beside the container, the perfect gift.

Smiling, Raffe rinsed the container, slid it into the dishwasher, and leaned against the counter. Warmth flooded him, but it wasn’t the cold pizza. It was the thoughtfulness behind it.

Mia.

This family.

They had his back, trusted him, cared for him, even when he didn’t deserve it. And for the first time in his life, Raffe wasn’t just fighting for a case, or for justice, or for some abstract idea of duty.

He was fighting for them.

And then it hit him—Mia was most likely waiting for him. In his bed.

Or…had she fallen asleep already?

That had to stop. No more separate bedrooms. No more pretending this was temporary. The truth was already written across his heart in fire: this was permanent. They needed a future. A real one.